Fine wine
by LittleMissAfflicted
Summary: Korra, Bolin, and a bottle that causes tension to runneth over... because everyone needs someone. One-shot. Rated M for sexual situations/lemon/smut. Borra.


_I wish I knew why I never posted this, but I just don't ;_; Opal is adorable, but this was written when I had high-hopes they'd let the dork get the girl for once, lol. Enjoy. _

_**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Rated M for mature situations, so all ye of little tolerance look away_

* * *

><p>"It doesn't mean anything."<p>

Silence hangs in the heat of air thickened by possibility.

In the span of half an uneven breath she responds, because Korra refuses to be accused of hesitation.

"It doesn't have to."

Only in that instance do those words ring true.

* * *

><p>She is restless that night, Korra decides. Something jars her, makes her want to listen to a friend's laughter rather than spend another evening consumed by her own thoughts. Embalmed by her growing insecurities. Surrounded by a sea breeze that she <em>still<em> cannot bend.

The sudden plague of agitation is convenient- the practice area of the Pro-Bending arena has just been freed of the presence of a certain couple. Korra is almost positive that one day Mako and Asami will fuse at the lips and become some bizarre, conjoined mass of affection. Though she is aware of the pangs of jealousy that arise at the sight of the pair's nearly constant nuzzling, part of the water tribe girl decides firmly-

No matter who it is, that much doting is absolute nonsense.

"Bolin," she coaxes with some timidity for she has, after all, marred the boy's emotions more than he deserves. "Wanna hang out with me?"

Guiltily enough, she knows that he won't say no.

The gleam within the boy's vivid green eyes is impossible to overlook as he answers, "Course I would, Korra."

Thus the night proceeds.

There are noodles, because neither one of them can seem to get their fill of the simple yet exquisite water-tribe fare. Cans of lychee soda pop that Korra has never tried before but is convinced improves the resonance of her burps. A stroll through the park in which she spots sleeping turtle-ducks, countless stars, and a single endless smile.

A sudden mischievous notion that results in the swift abandonment of a few yuan in exchange for a tightly sealed bottle of liquor.

Bolin protests-

The 'vendor' seemed totally shady. They aren't of age. He's heard stories about what alcohol that's been brewed with aged cactus juice can do…

But Korra brushes off each objection, fueled by curiosity and typical stubbornness.

"Just a little bit each," she promises.

She knows that Bolin won't say no.

She can't remember when his mouth brushed against hers, or when she decided to press back.

Definitely after arriving to her teammates' spacious apartment. After watching Pabu perform some new tricks, for sure. Probably after Bolin decided to play a game of cards with her. Sometime after they heaped themselves onto the couch to describe to each other how the effects of the liquor were manifesting. Maybe, then, after the eartbender deemed the cozy spot in front of the fireplace _too_ toasty, proceeding to lounge around in a pair of sweatpants and a tank.

There was a lot of laughter… was it then? No, no…

Bolin had sat beside her at some point. Had removed her fur-lined boots as a joke and tickled her feet until she punched his arm hard enough to draw a whimper from him.

Had she apologized? Yes, Korra was pretty sure that she had. Then she had joked about kissing it better, and there had been a hand pressed to her cheek as another tucked away strands of mused hair…

"Kiss me instead."

Had he whispered that, or was her imagination going as wild as Ikki's?

But he must have, because he's perched above her, still reaping compliance.

"Bo, we shouldn-"

He doesn't let her finish, and Korra is thrilled. Bolin's mouth feels different. His lower lip is fuller, she discovers while suckling it gently. They part for a moment and Korra stares, fascinated by the flushed pout that could rival a girl's (an opinion that she manages to keep from slurring) before attaching herself to her teammate once more.

She learns.

Korra realizes that Bolin's scent is something like musk, earth, and dewy grass after a morning rain shower. The last bit seems impossible- but only just- because she buries her face into his neck to inhale deeply and is assured that her description is accurate.

That he's covered in muscle, chords of taut flesh flexing beneath her clutching fingers as he runs his hands over her chest, and ah, those hands!

"Bolin, what-!"

She learns to keen out of pleasure as the warmth of his large palms runs useless patterns along the still-clothed swells of her breasts. Kneading, toying, and then slowing down to ask permission. It's so utterly Bolin.

Meanwhile the suggestive tugging on the hem of her own shirt is much too Korra- rough, blunt, and unabashed. He sends the scrap of blue flying towards some corner of the room and stares at the bandages wound about her chest. She sighs when he cups her again, one firm yet pliable mound in each hand. All that separates her skin from his is a web of paper-thin cloth.

"God, Korra… you're… they're…"

"You like them, Bo?"

Korra is flushed a deep shade of plum. They both know it, yet the alcohol makes it almost irrelevant.

"Y-Yeah. A lot."

A warm giggle fills the room. Possibly the sweetest and most feminine sound that she has ever let leave her supple lips. "Me too. I was a late bloomer, y'know. I thought I was gonna be flat chested like a boy forever. And then bam! Boobs!"

That sets off a hysterical fit of laughter. It starts off full- their bodies wracked with it- and then slows down as Bolin notices how every heave makes Korra's chest bob, and how it is most certainly _not _like a boy's. The sounds die out and they stare at each other through a haze of breathlessness.

He wants her so honestly that it makes her heart leap beneath her skin. And right now, more than anything, Korra wants to be wanted.

"Bolin?"

"What Korra?"

Even she can feel the heat roiling off of her gaze when she suggests oh-so-quietly: "Help me out of these bindings?"

Bolin sucks in a breath and nods.

Korra wonders if this is what it's like to be a present. To be peeled open while the person in question hums with an anticipation that's nearly suffocating. Bolin goes so slowly that it begins to make her skin crawl. Piece after piece in an endless circle… except that he does reach the end, and he gasps.

"I've never-"

"Me neither," Korra answers. This time she does feel a bit of shyness prickling her cheeks. A steadying breath brings back the comforting scent of the earthbender's skin, and suddenly their lips are joined again. The avatar keens into Bolin's mouth as he brushes her bare nipples with his palms. Delicately at first, as if she were a lovely little porcelain doll. Then rough and needy as befits a pair of drunken teens.

"Is that okay?" Korra hears Bo murmuring. She doesn't say a word. Just arches her back and moans as he squeezes gently.

"B-Better than okay," she finally manages to breathe back, crying out as his fingers roll the hardened flesh between them. Bolin's hands are surprisingly soft. Spirits, do all men have such impossibly tender hands, she muses? The avatar chances a look at his face and there is fire dancing in his eyes, burning against his cheeks.

Korra watches with whatever focus her alcohol-hazed mind allows as Bo bites down on his own lower lip, pulling it taut as he pinches at her now sensitized breasts. The sound she lets loose is incredible- high and sweet and relentlessly pleading- so much so that he can't help but moan as he bucks against her.

It surprises the water tribe girl when he seems to evolve into a completely different man; Bolin sighs roughly into the shell of her ear before taking hold of her right leg and hitching it over his hip, making it all the more possible to really feel him as he rocks against her. How is he so thick and heavy even through this many layers of clothes? As soon as it hits Korra that this is really happening- Bolin is actually rubbing himself onto her and it's _amazing_- she flexes her hips upwards to meet him.

It's cataclysmic.

"Damn, Korra!"

"Ah!" she tosses her head, wild and free and full of a hundred lifetimes' worth of pleasure that hum under her skin. She is more than a savior, more than a creature of balance, and the sudden awakening of her right to such incredible sensation drives her mad. The warmth of her fingers yanks against the hem of Bolin's tank and he becomes shy, shocked at her forwardness despite how like her it all is.

"Yours too," Korra practically purrs. For a moment they read one another. Silent questions bounce back and forth between them, neither once quite sure what to do… until the hot-headed woman beneath Bolin sighs, eyes downcast and cheeks splashed with a flush like red wine, back arching in a way so timidly wanton that the earth bender sees no other option. His shirt comes off.

The moment in which the thin sheet of fabric lands on the floor with an abrasive whisper signals a point of no return.

"Wow," the avatar gasps in admiration that could only be described as pure. There will only ever be one first time that Korra experiences anything, and the wonder of it shines in her eyes like jewels trapped beneath the sea of her too-blue eyes.

"You like them, Korra?" Bolin mimics her earlier question with a lust-weakened grin as he puffs his chest out proudly. Korra bursts into a fit of giggles.

"You're gorgeous Bo." She nods teasingly.

His expression becomes far too serious before the younger brother of the man she thought she loved shakes his head. "No, Korra. You definitely are," he murmurs, and her arms open wide and beg to be held, to be kissed… for him to prove it all. Bolin's lips slide away from her and pepper along the heaving curve of her neck, the dips of her collarbone, down and further still, until he's feasting on her breasts like a starved man. Every lick makes her groan. Each nibble forces an impatient wiggle from her hips. And one very daring bite draws a sharp scream. His name.

"Bolin!"

The earth bender looks down at her and it hits him: she's helpless. At his mercy in a way that no enemy will ever be able to fathom. Lost, because Korra barely has any idea what happens from here on out. He does, if only through bits and pieces of Mako's own stories. Mako was the one she wanted…

But he's the one who has her.

He slows down for a moment and groans at the sight of her chest. Each of her dusky nipples gleams; spit-slicked and perked.

Korra watches with wide eyes as Bolin runs a hand over the tent in his sweat pants before settling over the string of them. Now it's like she's watching a gift unwrap itself- he undoes the simple bow that keeps them in place, pulling the drawstring loose before sliding them down his wide, muscular thighs.

"Oh!" She hides her eyes behind her hands; a reflexive move she'd adapted after years of training with guards that made far too much use of the ice instead of proper toilets. Men.

Bolin shrinks back. "That bad, huh?"

"N-no! It's just-!" The avatar flails before swallowing her words. With a gulp Korra realizes that she's looking at _it_, right in front of her, and everything about it sears itself into her mind.

Bolin is long and thick… the tip bright red… balls beneath heavy and drawn up tight… something is already oozing out of the top, like a little pearl…

And she wants to touch him. Has to.

Tawny hands reach for this new sight, a single finger tracing the column of flesh gently. Bolin hisses a swear, making Korra jump. But before she can wonder if she's hurt him one of his large hands wraps hers around him and shows her what to do, if only a little. Up and down. Over and over. She moans as she watches him pump his hips to meet her hand, his voice growing labored and rough.

"Yours too," he demands with a gentle yank at the water tribe garb that guards her lower half. A laugh follows a growl.

"Stop copying me and get your own moves, Bo."

Brows quirk at the challenge… and in mere moments Korra is as bare as the day she was born and blessed to be the world's hero. The pro-bender's mouth parts in disbelief. She's just too beautiful for words. Nothing like the bizarre complexity of folds other men had described, no; Korra is a simple swollen mound crowned by wispy curls, bleeding milky desire from a much pinker center. Bolin cups her softly and runs his thumb along her, marveling at the way she pouts in defiance yet undulates beneath his touch.

"Is that good?" Korra hears Bo rasp as the pad of his digit reaches her middle and flicks at the rosy nub he finds there.

She snaps.

"Yes… oh, Bo… it's so-!"

His mouth overtakes her own as a rod of heat presses against her, killing her with white-hot friction. Korra's eyes open to slits and peek at the sight of Bolin's movements. His hips look powerful as they rock back and forth, the sight of his backside perched into the air making her groan. Do all men have asses that nice and full? Oh my…

"Mmm… Bolin, I can't take anymore," an exhausted avatar pleads against his kiss-swollen lips. "It feels so… like I might-"

"I know," Bolin gasps despite his doubled efforts to move harder against the writhing woman beneath him. "Korra, I l-"

The slam of a door echoes in a distance below them.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Bolin, I'm back," Mako's voice breaks the silence of the brothers' home. The firebender takes no more than a few steps into the apartment before an unusual sight greets him:<p>

Bolin and Korra tossed onto the couch in a heap, clothed but sloppy as a lone bottle guards the corner of their furniture. He shakes his head at the younger pair and sighs as he trudges into his bedroom.

"Phew," Korra heaves as silently as she can, rolling onto her belly to look at Bolin's now opened, lush green eyes.

She's grown cold, and he knows that his older brother is to blame. He can't get attached. It's him she wants.

"Relax," he says in a much more soothing whisper than he'd intended. "It doesn't mean anything."

Korra's eyes shimmer.

"It doesn't have to."

Except that it already means everything.

* * *

><p>:)<p> 


End file.
